Slow like Honey
by Crimson Coin
Summary: FIN Trish has healed. But when her one time love returns, she faces the hardest decisions of her life. FIN


Title: Slow Like Honey

Author: Crimson Coin

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone mentioned within neither this fic nor the WWE. They are property of themselves and were merely borrowed for this fictional tale.

Rating: PG 13

Summery: Just when she thought she could get over him, he comes back.

Timeline: Survivor Series 2003 and labeled dates

Archiving: Ask me first, I like to keep track.

* * *

Trish Stratus hummed quietly to herself as she walked down the arena hallway. Everything was so good lately. With Amy back, Trish was relieved she wasn't the sole female face any longer. And she was so happy to be working with her sassy redheaded friend again. Trish didn't want to admit it, at least to anyone, but she missed Amy. Missed her crazy friend and her extreme antics.

Trish smiled slightly. And the women's division was stronger than ever. There were so many girls on the roster and each one adept in her own way, adding such wonderful color and flavor to the division. Hell, she even heard rumors that the stories and backgrounds and feuds within the women's division were better than the men.

Her social life was great. She had friends, she had fun, money and she loved her job. And most importantly, she was finally over _him_.

Yes, she was over him. Granted, it took time, a lot more time than she wanted it to, but it worked. Some casual dating, a rebound or two, and all these months later, she was actually happy. She hadn't seen him or heard from him since he left and she was happy like that. She was happy without him.

Sighing contently, she hoisted her bag a little higher onto her shoulder and pushed through the door to the women's locker room. She froze, her eyes widening as her bag fell from her shoulder. He was there.

Jeff Hardy laughed, draping a casual arm over Amy's shoulder as he addressed the room. "I just had to come tonight. I had to see my best girl getting her title shot."

Matt Hardy grabbed Amy by the wrist, pulling the redhead away and into his arms. "Best girl, huh? Is there something you wanna tell me, Baby. I mean, you have no idea what I had to do to get transferred to this show for you."

Amy smiled, stepping away from Matt and towards Jeff, her hands raised submissively. "I'm sorry, Matt, I mean this is what you get when you surprise me like this."

Matt's eyes widened as the rest of the locker room laughed. His mouth agape in honest horror, he blinked a few times. "Are ... are you serious?"

Amy rolled her eyes as the room practically broke into hysterics. The redhead looked from Jeff to Chris and around the room before her eyes fell on Jeff. "Can you believe him? Oh my God." She looked to Trish, offered a sweet smile then back to Matt.

Matt stepped back. "You're ... you're cheating on me?"

Sighing, Amy reached for him. "Sweetie, you know I'm not."

"With ... you ... you're cheating on me ... with ... with my brother?"

"Honey, no."

"How could you?" Matt's eyes actually grew glassed, his voice starting to shake. "How ... how could you? I ... I loved you so much and ... and ... you know ... how hard it was for me to admit that to you." He sniffed, wiping at his eyes, furiously.

The room fell silent, Amy's eyes softening as she stepped closer to her beloved boyfriend. "Matthew, Sugar Darlin, you know ..."

"I don't know anything anymore." He viciously slashed at the air with a hand. "I don't know you. I don't know any of you." He narrowed his eyes. "How could you sleep with my brother? My Own Brother!" He turned his back, his head bowed and shoulders slumped.

"Matthew," Amy cooed, ignoring the serious worried expressions on all others in the room. "Matthew, you know how much it means to me that you're here. I love you. Jeff and I were only joking." She ran her hands gently up his back then kneaded her fingers into his shoulders. "I would never cheat on you, Darlin, never."

Matt jerked away.

Amy, however, was persistent. She gripped his arm. "Sweetie, I love you so much. I would never do anything to hurt you. I'm sorry for being so joking with this, but I didn't mean ... Damn it, Matt, I love you." She turned him.

And Matt had the biggest grin on his face. There was silence for a good minute and then everyone burst out laughing. Amy's eyes blazed. "Matthew Moore Hardy!"

"More Hardy?" Matt's eyes raised quizzically then he smiled. "Do you really think you could handle ... more Hardy?"

Amy's eyes widened. "Matthew!"

Matt laughed, quickly running from the room as Amy charged after him. The crowd followed, cheering and hooting along the way.

Jeff chuckled to himself, not bothering to follow. He turned to the door, shock replacing every other expression on his face. "Trish?"

The little blonde's jaw tightened. "Jeff."

He ran to her, stopping only a few feet away as his eyes scanned her body, a disbelieving tinge to his eyes. "Trish ... I ... you ... Wow, you look great. It ... it's been awhile."

"It has." She responded, coolly.

He sighed, a soft smile tugging at his beautiful lips. "I ... I've missed you."

Trish furrowed her brow, taking a step back from him. "You miss me? How could you say that? You don't miss me."

"But ..."

"Pssht." She scoffed. "If you missed me you'da called, or came to see me. I haven't heard a word from you."

He glanced at his feet, a hand coming up to rake through his naturally colored hair, raking the fibers back so he could cup his neck. "I ... I would have. I really ... well. I ... I couldn't."

Sneering, Trish turned on her heels, walking to the door.

"No, wait." He said quickly, lunging out to grab her arm and he turned her to face him.

Trish swallowed hard, shrugging away his hand though she did look at him again.

Jeff licked his lips, his green eyes intensely locked on her lovely face. "I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. It ... it just happened."

"Happened?" she crossed her arms, more upset now than angry. All of a sudden, all of her control, all of her healing had crashed and she was no better now than the day she knew he was gone. "Just happened! That ... that's such bullshit! Stop lying to me, Jeff. You've always lied to me and I'm sick of it. Stop it. Just stop it."

"No, I didn't." He said, intensely, his eyes flaring with constant emotion. "I mean it when I say that I miss you. And I meant every damn thing I ever told you in our relationship. And I mean it when I say that I'm sorry." He took a step closer. "And that I miss you." Closer still, he was so close. So close that the heat emanated off of him, pulsating against her and his heart clenched as she shuddered at his nearness. "And that I love you."

Shocked, horror and surprise fell onto her face as she stepped back from him, shaking her head. "Love me? Love me! You never loved me! You ... you never could have loved me." She grabbed his arm roughly, tossing him to the door. "You don't love me." She shoved him out. "You _Never_ Loved Me!"

The door slammed shut.

Jeff could hear her sobs through the door, hear her lean against it and slide down to the floor, sitting. He followed her, his hand pressed against the door each bit down. As she lowered, he knelt, his hand tracing where he thought she was. He could feel her. Feel her familiar warmth emanating through the wooden door. God, how much he missed her. He missed everything about her and be damned if he'd let her go again.

"Trish, Darlin." His southern drawl was ever so strong. "I ... I don't know if you can hear me or if you'll believe me. But I'm gonna talk anyway." He ran his fingers further down the door. "I have never stopped loving you. Never. And every day since I left, you've been haunting my every thought. I can't get you outta my mind. Every moment, every instant ... I'm thinking of you ... and of what I did." He sighed, bowing his head. "What I've become."

Jeff closed his eyes, willing the tears to stay back. He felt his stomach tremble and clench. He could barely control himself. But he had to. He had to find his voice. Clearing his throat, he swallowed hard. "Sweetie."

He could hear her choked sobs, her uneasy breathing. "Beautiful, Darlin." He cooed, stroking the door, hoping she could feel it on the other side. "Trishy, I had to leave. I ... I couldn't let you see me. I ... I was addicted, Darlin. The ... the drugs ... the marijuana and I ... I was ashamed. God, I was a mess. I was ashamed to even look at you. I ... I had no right to be anywhere near you. Not the mess that I was. I was so messed up and ... I couldn't face you. I ... I had to get away, to clean myself up."

He swallowed, choking on the tears that pushed to gag him. "Trish, my Baby, Darlin I ... I've cleaned up. It ... it was so hard and the withdrawal, it ... it nearly killed me." He closed his eyes, pressing his head to the door, the tears threatening to leak out his eyelids. "Who am I kidding? It did kill me. I ... I needed you and ... God, I needed you so bad. But I ... I couldn't. I ... I couldn't bear the look of disappointment that I know would be in your eyes. Or ... or the fear, the l... the loathing."

He sighed, his breath shaking with his sorrow. "I ... I'm sorry, Trishy. Darlin. I ... I love you. I ... I love you so much. And if ... if there's the slightest chance that ... that you could at least forgive me ... please ... God, please let me in."

Jeff waited a few moments. He prayed, hoped that possibly she would respond, that maybe she understood, maybe she would forgive him. But nothing happened. "Baby, no matter where we go, what happens from here ... I will never stop loving you. You ... you're my inspiration to fight ... to live ... my reason to breath, my everything and anything. I ... I can never ... Never ... stop loving you. You are my permanent, you are my total." He swallowed, nuzzling against the door. "I live for you ... my one ... my soul ... my ... my constant."

He paused again, not bothering to stop his tears. He could hear her tears as well. Defeated, he stood. His head bowed, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

The door opened.

Hopeful, his heart rebuilding, he looked up.

Trish stood there, her eyes red rimmed, a little swollen, her mascara streaking down her cheeks. Jeff forgot how beautiful she actually was, especially when she was wearing her everyday clothes, only the slightest trace of make-up. Her lower lip quivered and her body trembled. Jeff felt his heart break.

She clenched her fists. "Words."

His brow furrowed.

Trish shook her head, waving her hands at her face as she turned her back and walked into the locker room.

Jeff followed her quickly, his eyes wide and hopeful. He closed the door, holding it shut for a moment before moving further into the room.

She kept her back turned. "All you ever give me is words. You ... you just talk and you spout these words. These ... these beautiful poetic words that romance me away." Steeling herself, she faced him. "These words that make me continuously fall in love with you. And ... and all you ever do is talk!"

She ran a hand through her thick blonde locks. "What, am I supposed to just forgive you? Forgive and forget and fall right back into your arms. Jeff, all you've ever given me is words. When we were together and even now. You ... you're just trying to romance me away with these pretty words and ... and that's all you ever do is talk."

Jeff's eyes fired with an unreadable emotion and he stalked right up to her and gripped her arm. Eyeing her a long few silent moments, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.

The simplest, sweetest of kisses. She'd forgotten how soft his lips were, how sweet he tasted. His arms bound around her as his tongue swooped over her bottom lip and into her mouth. She collapsed against him, her knees giving way as she clutched at his shirt.

Jeff's heart leapt at her whimper and then she started to kiss him back. He felt like he was dreaming. Finally, Trish in his arms again. Breathless, despite what he wanted, he broke the kiss, looking down at her. He said nothing.

Trish licked her lips, gathering the distinct taste of the moisture he left on her lips. She turned from him then, willing the tears to stay back.

"Trish, Darlin." He breathed in that suave, smooth Southern drawl.

The sound of his voice brought tears to her eyes but still, she kept them contained. "Leave, Jeff." She forced out.

"No," His voice was strong and insistent. "I want you back. I'm not giving you up again."

She stiffened, a steel wall clouding her eyes and she turned to him, coldly. "You just want me back. Bam! Just like that? I'm sorry, Jeff, it doesn't work that way. I will not give you my heart again."

As she tried to push past him, he grabbed her arm, pinning her almost viciously against the wall. "Who are you trying to convince? I can see it in your eyes ... I never lost your heart. You think you can get over me, you can move on. But you can't. Just like I can't."

Trish refused to flinch though his actions did frighten her. He'd never been so violent before ... at least not with her. Instead, she only glared. "I'm convincing no one. I know how I feel. I don't love you anymore, Jeff. I don't want you."

He released her arm, taking a step back as pain and heartbreak fell onto his face. He didn't say anything, only looked right into her eyes.

She remained strong, not letting the look of him affect her. Not acknowledging that her heart was breaking at the rejection in his eyes. "That is how I feel." Gathering her courage, she walked passed him.

"Trish."

She stopped, glancing back over her shoulder. His back was to her.

"For what it's worth," his voice torn and broken. "I'm sorry."

Closing her eyes, she willed the tears to stay back. She couldn't stop, however, the anger from rising, the frustration and the hurt.

His eyes widened when she gripped his arm, spinning him furiously. And he was lost in the pain in her eyes. The tears killed him.

"You just don't get it, do you, Jeffrey." She wiped her eyes. "You broke my heart. You didn't even tell me. Nobody told me. I spent months ... months blaming myself. It was my fault you left and I drove away the man I love. I thought I did something wrong. I thought I did something wrong and ... and you went back to _her_."

She exhaled, looking away a moment then back to him. "I loved you so much and if you had the drug problem or whatever ... I still would have loved you. I would've been with you and helped you and ... God, it wouldn't have mattered. And I thought that I wasn't enough for you. That ..."

Before she could say anything else, Jeff stepped right to her, cupping her face, bringing her nose to nose. He kept his eyes true, his voice reverent. "You are the love of my life."

She could feel her knees going weak, but she would not falter. She couldn't feel that pain again. "If you love me ... let me go."

Reluctant, defeated, his heart truly broken, he released her and stepped back. He closed his eyes, ducking his head; he couldn't watch her leave, couldn't watch her walk out of his life. He felt her moving away and he had to restrain from yelling out 'Don't leave me, I need you!' But he couldn't. He knew he couldn't.

He turned quickly, slamming a hand against the wall; he couldn't stop the tears. His head ducked, the tears constantly dripped from his eyes, one drop hanging obnoxiously from the tip of his nose. His world collapsed when he heard the door close behind him.

* * *

**Almost ten months later**

Trish Stratus sighed, relishing in the silence of her hotel room. She licked her lips, her eyes scanning the screen of her laptop computer as she searched over various internet sites. She made a mental note to answer some of her fan mail in the future. She didn't mean to be ignoring them, she'd just been so busy.

Clicking on her usual links, she checked out the current internet rumors. She breathed a sigh of relief, glad she wasn't the center of attention. Her face stern, she felt her heart twist as she recognized a name.

'Jeff Hardy speaks on TNA, WWE, Matt, more ...'

She closed her eyes a moment. No, she wouldn't click. She'd heard his name flying around more often then not as of late and it was already difficult enough. But now, right there, a link to Jeff's interview. A piece of her wondered if he mentioned her. That chance was unlikely, however, since they hid their romance from the fans – if she could even call it a romance.

She exhaled a long steady breath, returning to her search engine site. Pausing a few long moments, she gathered herself. Her heart and mind still swirled with thoughts of Jeff. How after so many months, she still couldn't get rid of him? Was it an obsession? Or ...

It had been so long since she'd seen him. What did he look like now? Curiosity getting the better of her, Trish typed 'TNA Superstars' into her search engine. And there, the first link was for the TNA Superstars main website.

Too far to turn back, she clicked on his name. Sucking her lower lip into her mouth, she waited for his site to load. She sighed.

He was gorgeous.

Trish had to close her eyes, containing herself and any emotion the sight of him sparked. Determined, she forced her eyes opened and looked at each picture of him. He ... he was more beautiful than she remembered. And ... and he looked good too. He looked healthy and fit and ... and just wonderful.

Desperate to see more of him, she clicked on the 'Multimedia' link and then on live photos. Searching through them, she found different pictures of him. One specifically stood out. The picture was relatively large and he was shirtless, staring into the camera, his hair disheveled and slightly sweaty.

Sighing, she closed that photo, continuing to search through the other photos. Every photo she saw stabbed at her, a sinking knowing clenching at her already blackened heart.

She was still in love with him

Trish swore to herself, disgusted as her mind betrayed her with so ridiculous a thought and she quickly closed all the internet windows. It was absurd. She was not still in love with ...

Trish leaned back in the chair, her head tilted as her eyes closed. She could lie all she wanted. She knew she was still in love with Jeff. And she spent nights, praying that she could stop, that she would no longer love him. And then moments later, she'd pray that she'd wake up, in his arms as he kissed her mouth softly to wake.

She viciously shook her head, ridding her mind of her betraying hopes. Flustered, frustrated, she pushed out of her seat and walked to the bed, yanking up her jacket. Pulling it on, she walked out of her room and out of the hotel. She just had to get away.

Walking down the street, she passed by several shops and many people. No one seemed to recognize her, or at least desired to stop her for any reason. Turning a corner, she furrowed her brow and hugged her arms tighter around her body, keeping herself warm. It was an arena, and the sound was deafening from within.

Her eyes widened.

She was in Orlando. It was a Tuesday night. And this ... this was ...

Trish swallowed hard. She knew what this arena was. This was the arena where NWA-TNA taped. Right ... this moment. How had she ended up here? She was just walking down random streets and she found herself outside the Universal Studios Soundstage 21.

She wanted to just run. Turn around and run all the way back to her hotel room. Maybe even crawl right into bed and cry herself to sleep. She was just curious. She just wanted to possibly know how Jeff was and all of a sudden, everything was tossed at her feet.

She had to see him. She ... she just had to see him. Swallowing her nerves and gathering her courage, she walked around the arena to the backstage parking lot. Glancing around, she found the large open garage. Taking in her surroundings, she approached the door.

"Miss? Excuse me, Miss, you can't go in ther ..."

Trish turned, finding her self face to face with a security guard.

The guard's eyes widened as he recognized the woman before him and his eyes flashed with nerves as sweat instantly pricked at his brow. "Oh ... Uhm ... hello."

"Hi," Trish responded, shyly, a sweet smile on her lips. "Maybe you can help me. Is this where TNA is filming right now?"

The guard nodded, slackjawed and still unable to speak.

"Good. Uhm ..." she sucked her lower lip into her mouth for a moment. "Do you think maybe I could get inside and ... see someone?"

"Ye ..." the guard swallowed. "Yeah. Just ... just take the first corridor on your left. Then take the first right, down to the end then another right and you ... you'll be right by the locker room. And ... and straight on past that is the curtain and the ramp."

"Thank you," Trish said, a flirtatious tinge to her words and she walked away from the guard, following the path he so recently instructed. Finally, walking down the corridor she desired, she slowed her pace.

A sudden sinking feeling clenched in her stomach and Trish began doubting her choice in coming. What if he didn't want to see her? Especially after the way she left him, after he admitted his love and bore his heart and she denied him, how could he ever want to see her again? Why would he? For all she knew, Jeff was with another girl, another girl who possessed his heart and would treat him the way he deserved and not hurt him.

She stared blankly at the curtain ahead, willing her feet to move, praying she could just run away. This was a bad idea. She could hear whispers around her; she'd been spotted by the other workers. She could hear various voices, some asking if she were here for a contract, others assuming it was for someone special.

Trish swallowed hard, her courage faltering and she made the decision to just leave.

But her feet wouldn't move because she saw him.

Jeff stepped out from behind the curtain, finished with his match for the evening. His hair was tangled and disheveled, sweat slicked from his exertion. The body paint he usually wore had slightly worn off, as had the glow-in-the-dark paint, but enough still remained on his body to be seen. His shirt had been discarded long ago and even his black baggy pants showed signs of his beloved body paint.

A breath caught high in her throat and Trish didn't know what to do. She wanted to run, she wanted to run quickly before he spotted her ... before ...

It was too late. Jeff's eyes locked on her and his face fell at the realization of who she was. He shook his head a moment, clearing his head as though he thought she was a dream, a vision or a mirage. But no, she was standing there.

Jeff swallowed hard, his eyes unmoving. Was it really her? He could here his fellow wrestlers huff then make the comment 'it figures'. On any other occasion, he'd be tempted to attack, but no ... not with her there and so close. She ... she was lovelier than ever.

Trish's eyes widened as he walked closer, stopping barely a foot from her and he gazed down at her. She ducked her head, unable to control herself enough to even look in his eyes. She took a deep breath, but his scent invaded her lungs and did little to still her heart.

Her eyes focused on his chest, glistening and tanned, the paint swirled designs near his shoulder and one trailing down his pecks. She exhaled a shaky breath when he sighed and she could practically taste him, her mouth watering yet again. God, she missed him.

Jeff slowly cocked his head, raking a hand through his hair, in turn coating it with that glow-in-the-dark fluid. "Trish."

She trembled momentarily at his voice and she forced herself to look up and meet his eyes. Unable to stop herself, her eyes scanned his face. His eyes so deep and intense, full of emotion that she always knew was there. His brow and nose more pronounced, his cheeks wonderful and covered in stubble. His pointed sideburns accentuated his jaw and a long blonde strip grew from the center of his chin. She just wanted to reach up and play with it, teasing her fingers through the long fibers. And his lips ... they looked so soft, just so deliciously soft. She subconsciously licked her lips, remembering their feel against hers and wishing desperately to feel it again.

How had she ever lived a moment without this man?

Jeff felt his heart race. He kept his eyes on hers as she trailed her vision, rememorizing him. She was more beautiful than he remembered her. Her hair so strikingly blonde. Whether her original color or not, he didn't care, she was still gorgeous. And her eyes were so perfectly dark, and intense shade of deep brown that reminded him of chocolate and her lips were always so full and pouty. He could feel his mouth water as he remembered her kiss, those lips, those perfectly luscious lips wrapping around his.

The longer in his company, Trish felt more saddened. The realization of how perfect a man he was and that in essence, he was no longer hers. He probably had another woman, a good woman. Not someone like her.

"Trish,"

She forced her eyes to his at his call. The way he said her name ... it melted her.

Jeff licked his lips, forcing out the words. "Can we talk?"

Her eyes locked on his, drowning in those gorgeously green depths and she nodded.

He wasted no time, but grabbed her hand with his and walked quickly down the corridor. He released her only momentarily to barge into the men's locker room and grab his bag.

Trish gasped when he suddenly grabbed her hand again and she followed him, wordlessly down the arena corridor and to the garage. She didn't question as he led her into the street and followed as he raced across the busy lanes of traffic and into the tall hotel lobby.

She swallowed nervously at his rushed pace and didn't question as he charged up the chairs, fiddling with his pockets before pulling out a key card. She licked her lips, feeling her palms sweat in his and she was tempted to yank her hand away and run. Just run forever.

Jeff swiped the keycard and pushed open his door, guiding her inside.

Trish's fear escalated as she heard the door close behind them and she walked further into the room, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

"Trish."

The little blonde released a hopeless sigh then turned to face him. Her heart exploded.

Jeff's face glowed with that innocence that was always so apparent and he placed his bag on the floor. Raking his hand through his hair, he kept his eyes on hers as he stepped closer to her. "I ..." he smiled shyly. "I'm not in any shape to have company." He walked to the bed, tossing his clothes off and onto a spare chair in the corner of the room. Then he looked down at himself. "I ... I uh guess I'm kinda a mess."

Trish shook her head. "Look I ..." She walked hurriedly to the door. "Maybe this was a bad idea."

"Please, don't go."

She stopped at the plea in his voice, her entire resolve crumbling at the sound of his still melodic voice. She held her breath, knowing that he neared and she shivered when she felt his hand gently touch her shoulder.

"Please, don't leave."

She licked her lips, stilling her nerves and racing heart when he turned her and she forced her eyes open, looking up at him.

Jeff offered a sad sweet smile and he reached out with one hand, tentatively and cautiously cupping her cheek. "It's been a while."

"It has." Trish breathed with a slow nod, unable to tear her eyes away. Gosh, he was so handsome. How had she ever forgotten?

"You ..." he let his eyes skim her body, not dwelling anywhere, but just taking in the sight of her before he met her eyes again. "You look amazing." He chuckled at himself. "I'm afraid I can't say the same thing myself. But ..."

Trish shook her head. "No, you look good too." She let her eyes wander, a little longer than she would have liked. In truth, he looked very good. Far too good.

"What ... what are you doing here?"

His question shook her mind clear and she looked up into his eyes blankly for a few moments. "I ... I have no idea."

That smile pulled at his lips again and he cocked his head, his tangled hair sweeping over his shoulders. "You have no idea?" he cocked a brow, his eyes dancing.

She ducked her head, refusing to meet his eyes any longer and her face flushed with unending embarrassment.

Jeff reached out, hooking a finger under her chin to tilt her head back up again. He wanted to look in her eyes. "Don't look away from me, Beautiful. I miss your pretty eyes."

Trish swallowed hard, a lump remaining and she couldn't stop her throat's quivering. She could feel tears welling and her heart fluttering. She prayed it would stop. She hated feeling this way, so weak, so helpless.

He raked his fingers through his hair again. "I'm really a mess. I don't want you to leave but I feel so skeezy right now. I'm gonna go take a shower." He walked to his bag, pulling out a pair of sweatpants before heading to the bathroom. His hand hovering over the doorknob, he turned his head, looking at her again. "Please, don't leave. And ... and if you want to. You can come in." A faint flush raised to his cheeks for only a moment.

Startled, her eyes widened.

Jeff quickly licked his lips. "I ... I mean if you want to come into the room, and we can talk ... you know if you wanna sit on the sink counter or ... or something." He turned the doorknob, walking inside. "I ... you know, if you want to or ..."

Trish jostled when the door closed and she released a breath she didn't realize she was holding. His words, his nerves, his blush, his everything. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth, her eyes closed as she did her best to still her thoughts.

She heard the shower turn on and her body involuntarily shuddered at the thought of him stripping his clothes. That fantastic, beautiful body that she'd dreamed of for years and then he'd step into the shower, the fog encasing him ... just as she wished to.

She shook her head, expelling her mind of such traitorous thoughts. But it would not stop. She willed her mind to still, she willed herself to not think of him, think of his gorgeously tanned body, roughened from the sun, and the scattered patches of chest hair, the beautiful curves of his ...

"No," she openly scolded herself and Trish forced her eyes open and looked to the ceiling. No one would believe her if she spoke the truth of her real relationship with Jeff Hardy. How they never made love, never had been past a passionate kiss. It was more of a companionship, a melding of minds and of souls, not a lustful encounter of the physical body. Though that did not mean she did not yearn. On the contrary, she did find herself lusting him throughout their relationship, and she knew Jeff felt the same.

The way he'd look at her spoke volumes as to what he truly desired but never had the courage to pursue. In a way, that ignited her love for him, that he never yearned to push or force his physical needs on her.

Yet still, on cold nights when he left her to her room, she would lie and wonder. Wonder about him, dream about his body, his arms, his chest ... his everything pressed against her. His remarkable body cradling her, worshipping her and loving her in all definitions of the term.

And even now, years later, she wanted that. She still wanted him and she couldn't still her heart from that yearning. She couldn't resist.

Trish slowly walked to the bathroom door, her hand shaking uncontrollably. Uncaring, she turned the door and pushed inside.

Her eyes searched frantically a moment, hoping that there wasn't clear glass for the shower door. She couldn't help sighing with relief as she spotted the translucent glass door in its stead. Her breath caught in her throat.

Despite the fogged hazy glass, she could still make it the wonderful contours of his lovely body. His back was slightly turned and the glass was fogged enough, he wasn't clear. But that only served to charge her more, rage her desires for him.

Trish bowed her head, walking to the toilet and lowering the seat cover. She sat down.

"So you decided to join me."

Her only response was a heavy sigh and she kept her eyes on the bathroom tiles, admiring the pattern to keep from looking at him.

"It's ok, Sweetie."

"No, it's not." She said in a low voice. "I shouldn't be here. This ... this isn't right."

"Don't go." He said, quickly, pressing a hand against the glass shower door as he looked through that glass. "Please."

Trish looked up, staring at his face. She couldn't see him well, the glass and fog of the hot shower more than enough to block him from view. "I don't think it is. I ... I don't even know why I came in the first place."

"I do."

"You what?"

Jeff stepped away from the glass and back under the jets of hot water, his head tilted back to let the water rush through his hair. "I know why you came."

"Oh you do?" Trish responded with annoyance. "Then why not fill me in. Because I don't know why _I_ came so what makes you think that you do."

"Because I know you, Trish. And ..."

"You don't know me." She snapped, slicing at the air. "You didn't know me years ago so what makes you think you'd know me now."

He froze, his hands dropping from his hair to his sides. He paused a long few moments, the room growing slightly foggier during the time that passed. "I'm sorry." He said, his voice sad and husky.

Trish sighed, ducking her head as she leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. "You think you know so much." She continued, softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "You think you understand everyone and that you're this master of reading people. And you think that you understand what's going on in my head. You think you know what I was thinking when you left. And you still think that you did the right thing."

He didn't respond.

"But you didn't, Jeff." She finished a bit curter. "You didn't understand and you still don't. You probably still think you did right by me to leave when you did, the way you did."

"I was right." Jeff answered an almost dull monotone reply. "I was right because you deserved better than me." He reached out a hand, grabbing a large white towel as the shower turned off. "You deserved better than me and how in the hell was I supposed to face you. Knowing the kind of man I was."

"The kind of man you were?" she huffed. "Did it ever occur to you that I loved the kind of man you were?"

He threw the door open, almost violent in his exertion and he stepped out of the shower, that towel wrapped and tucked around his slender waist. "You couldn't have been in love with me. I was a mess, a wreck, a disaster."

Trish slowly shook her head, her eyes saddened as she looked up at him. His hair heavy and still wet with the water, those water droplets dripping down his tight tanned form. "That wasn't what made the man to me."

"I was on drugs." He snapped, his eyes flashing dangerously with anger. "I was a drug addicted. I was addicted and too fucking proud to do a damn thing about it. That wasn't important to you?"

"No." She yelled back, standing to face him off. "What was important to me was who you really were. I know who Jeff Hardy is. He's a sweet wonderful caring man who never did a damn thing to hurt me. You never hurt me, Jeff. You never broke my heart or cheated on me or abused me or talked down to me or ignored me or anything. You treated me like a lady, like I was precious to you, like I meant something. Your kisses were always slow and full of such ... such affection and caring and it was like you wanted to kiss me to just kiss me. You'd hold me in your arms and be content just like that, like you didn't expect me to drop my pants just because you're touching me. You made me feel beautiful."

She sliced an angry hand at the air. "And this stubborn drug addict stuff is bullshit. Because if you think that I would stop loving you because you had a fault, then you never knew who I was. We all have faults, Jeff. And just because yours was more serious than most, doesn't mean I would have stopped loving you. It doesn't mean I would look down on you or do anything like that." She paused, her voice dropping in tone as she pointed at her chest. "I'd have been there for you. Every damn step of the way. If only you'd have let me."

"You don't know what addicts are like." He responded with a stern shake of the head and he walked from the bathroom, into the bedroom, knowing she would follow. "You don't know what it does to people, what it makes them do to others." He picked up his hairbrush, working the tangles from his long dirty blonde hair.

"I don't understand addictions?" She shook her head, sitting down on the spare bed in the room as she stared at his back, watching his rhythmic brush strokes. "I understand addictions more than anyone. You want to know how much I understand addictions. My father's a recovering alcoholic. That's how much I understand addictions."

Jeff stopped his actions, twisting his body to look at her, shocked and slightly confused.

"Yeah." Trish answered his unspoken question, tears welling up in her eyes. "My father is a recovering alcoholic. It's not something I talk about. He's been sober for ten years. And I know ... what ... what addiction does to that person and the family and loved ones and ..."

Jeff cocked his head as she trailed off and he scanned her face, his eyes resting on her tearful orbs. "Did you father ever hurt you?"

Trish didn't respond, merely shook her head and kept her eyes averted from his.

He didn't accept that answer and dropped the brush to the floor. Walking with a purpose, he knelt at her feet, ducking down a bit to look up into her face. "Trish?" He reached up.

She shook his hand away. "I'm just saying that I understand addictions. And that I would have understood yours. And I ... I would have stuck by you and ..."

"Trish," he sighed again, reaching up to hook the side of his finger under her chin, stroking his thumb there as he tilted her head up. "Look in my eyes."

Trish couldn't resist.

His eyes searched hers, reading every emotion. Despite what she thought, he could see. "Trish, I left because I was scared to death that I would hurt you." He explained softly, his voice coated in a sweet drawl. "I was unpredictable and moody and ... I was addicted. And if you understand addictions, then you'd understand why I did what I did. You ..." He stroked his fingers back over her cheek before cupping that precious cheek with his warm palm. "You are the last thing on this earth I would ever want to hurt.

Trish sniffled, a tear managing to slip from the corner of her eye.

"Even now, I don't want to hurt you." He continued softly, brushing his thumb to catch that tear. "That's why I joined TNA and not the WWE. I knew that I would still hurt you."

She furrowed her brow.

"I'm not completely over my addiction." Jeff admitted though he couldn't keep his voice steady. "I've found myself still yearning and a couple times I couldn't resist. I'm not nearly what I was. But still. And then after you told me that you wanted me to let you go and all that about going back to ... to her ... I ..." He swallowed hard. "I could never go back to her after you." He sighed a moment, letting his hand drop from her face. "I still don't deserve to face you. You deserve the most perfect guy on the planet and I ... I'm a fallen man."

Trish reached out with a shaky hand, placing it against his cheek. "Christ fell three times ..." she breathed, stroking a thumb along his scruffy chin. "And he was Christ."

Jeff licked his lips, his eyes averting from hers at those words.

"And I don't want a perfect man." She said, softly, her eyes searching his then taking in his brow and hair and body before meeting his gentle green eyes again. "I'm not flawless either and I don't want a perfect man."

"I miss you."

His words clung to her, embracing her and Trish had to remind herself to breathe. She was still cupping his cheek and she trembled at the touch. God, his skin, his ... his lovely face.

When she didn't respond, Jeff licked his lips, a new dejected feeling strangling him. He ducked his head, speaking in a low, husked voice. "I know you hate it when I speak poetry. But I'd been doing a lot of thinking lately. And I'm working on a new poem. I ... I want to tell you what I have."

She didn't answer.

He took that as a sign to continue and he licked his lips again, desperate to moisten them. His mouth was so dry. He cleared his throat, swallowing the rising lump before he began. "Every night, as I lie awake in cold conflict, my mind seeks to betray. There is no peace, there is no rest. I am a haunted man."

Jeff released a nervous breath, aware that she had yet to stop him. He continued. "Day into night, Night into day, I drown with each passing breath. The pain, the betrayal, and yet it is not for mine that I weep. Nay, it is for that of another, the possessor of my heart, the conqueror of my soul."

He let his eyes flutter closed, his words flowing like magic, without prompting, without stuttering. He was exposed. "She ... my everything. My all and my total. My reason for breath, my reason for life. My purpose, my constant. She ... my very self."

His voice hitched in his throat for a moment, but he was strong and spoke through his emotions. "She ... whose love for me rose with the dawn and illuminated the night. Whose loyalty and dedication, whose passion and tender affection engulfed me and gave me life. For only with her, can I live at all."

Jeff nodded slowly, licking his lips again. "She ... my sole compliment, my only, my love. And yet this is nothing. Though I may lie here, dedicated still and unwavering of another, she is no longer mine to love. I have lost that privilege ... that right ... that honor. I am undeserving. I am a fool. And I know my fault."

He swallowed hard again, his voice unable to stop quivering. "I am no man. I am but a child, unknowing of the beauty I possessed, unaware of the perfection that I once held in my arms. If only I showed her of my love. If only I showed her my heart, my mind and my soul. If only I proved myself to be the man to give her all that she has given me, all that she yearns ... all she desires and needs and wants. If only ..." 

He sniffed, bowing his head further for he could not look upon her face. "If only ... she were mine again."

Jeff waited a long few moments, letting the words stick and praying she would give him a response. But she did not. "I ... I've waited almost a year to tell you that. And I know that a woman as perfect as you ... has probably found the man who fits that poem, who is the speaker. The man who deserves to be yours."

"Jeff."

He shook his head. "I know I'm not that man. I never expect to be and I know that I never was or should be. I know that and I ... I can accept it ... I know I can ... I just ... I will try and you will be happy. I ..." he looked up, his words trailing off at the look on her face, the tears in her eyes. "I ... I'm sorry if I said something wrong."

"No," she said gently, cupping his face in her hands as she looked into his gorgeous eyes. "No, that ... you said everything right."

"I ..." he licked his lips, forcing his eyes to maintain that contact. "I wish I was him." He admitted with tear filled orbs. "I wish I was him. I wish I could hold you again and I wish I never made mistakes. I ... I wish I was him when he holds you and when he kisses you. I ... I wish I made love to you when I had the chance, I ... I wish I showed you. And ... and now I ... I wish you to be happy with him."

"Jeff," she sighed, her eyes never leaving his and she stroked her thumbs along his cheeks then down over his lips. "There is no 'him'." She licked her lips, unable to look away, unable to censor her heart anymore. "There's only you."

His brow furrowed at those words, his mind unreceptive of such a concept.

"There isn't another man." She admitted. "I couldn't see another man since ... since the last time I saw you. When you came to the arena for ... for Amy."

"I didn't go to the arena for Amy." He said, softly. "I ... I lied. I was there for you. I ... I didn't even know she was getting a title shot that evening. I ... I wanted you. I had to see you and talk to you and pray that maybe ... maybe I ... I could fix things."

"I should have let you." She said, drawing her lower lip into her mouth. "I ... Oh God, Jeff."

He gasped when she threw herself into his arms, her hands tangling in his hair as she buried her face in his throat. He could feel the moisture of tears, the slight shaking of her body, her tiny perfect little body finally in his arms again. "Trish," he breathed, wrapping his arms tightly around her, hugging her, trying to pull her as far into him as he could.

She sniffled when she felt him sit back onto his heels and she nearly died when she felt his arms band around her. "Jeff ... Oh God ... Jeff."

He sighed when she snuggled further into him and in turn, he nuzzled along her neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her. "I've missed you so much." He tearfully admitted as she shifted slightly, pressing her forehead to his, their noses touching as they breathed onto each other, absorbing the warm breath of the other.

Trish nodded, her nose brushing against his and she released a sigh, his moist, hot breath sending chills down her spine. Nuzzling even further, her eyes fluttered closed and she couldn't resist. She softly wrapped her lips around his.

Jeff sighed, his body melting under the kiss and he didn't hesitate to respond with equal the tenderness. He tilted his head slightly, leaning a little ways into the kiss and he trembled when she reinforced the kiss, wrapping her lips a bit more forcefully around his.

She shivered as his hands gripped her waist, his fingers squeezing gently as he pulled her slightly closer, his head tilting a little more so he could press closer still.

He licked his lips as she pulled away, his eyes lingering closed and he breathed deeply, savoring the taste every second. Her taste, her kiss, the feel, it was overwhelming. Oh, how he missed this.

Trish sniffed, the tears brimming on her eye lashes and she pressed her palms to either side of his head. When she spoke, her words were broken and tear-filled. "Oh ... Oh God, I've missed you."

Jeff choked as her lips were on his again and he was shocked at her deep passionate attack. Her tongue invaded his mouth, her hands gripping him in place. His body flamed with her kiss, her touch, her everything. Her kiss deepened and intensified.

He shivered when her lips traveled down his jaw, leaving a hot wet trail as she kissed and licked over his chin and to his throat. Adorning his neck with kisses, nips and licks, Trish worshiped his throat, her hands raking through his hair then over his shoulders.

His eyes fluttered as her lips traveled lower still and along his collar bone. He gripped her shoulders. "Honey, no." It was the hardest thing he ever had to say.

Trish jostled as he pushed her back and her eyes were wide as she looked up at him. "Jeff?" Her voice cracked with her sorrow.

Jeff sighed, his heart breaking. Her eyes were so sad, her tears obvious but her lips were so red and thick and swollen from their kisses. "Honey."

"Jeff, I ... I thought you wanted this." She leaned closer. "I thought you wanted me."

Her mouth was on his again and Jeff moaned. He kissed her back, his passions equal to hers, almost ruthless in his desperation to kiss her more and more. But again, he shook his head and pushed her back, this time, breathless. "No."

The tears burst from her eyes. "God, you ... you don't want me, do you?"

"I do." He moaned, crashing his mouth to hers, his tongue pushing into her mouth for a deep passionate tangle. "Good God, I do." He moaned then kissed her again.

"Jeff," she moaned when he yanked her roughly against him, his lips trailing a hot path to her neck and he wrapped his arms around her, standing. She whimpered when he pushed closer to her, his hands caressing down her back.

He cupped her face in his hands and he eased her back, looking down on her face. "Are you sure you want me? You want this? I ... I have a lot of baggage."

"I want you," Trish breathed, her hands on his face then tracing down his body before wrapping around him, her fingers clutching at his biceps. "I love you, Jeff. I ... I don't wanna lose you again."

He moaned when her lips found his again and her hands trailed down his body, her fingers slipping into the towel.

"Wait," he groaned, reaching down to stop her hands and he re-tucked the corner of that towel. "Not yet."

"Why?" she begged, her body arching into his. "Jeff, I ... I've wanted this for so long."

"Me too, Baby." He replied, unable to control his body's yearnings. "But ... Oh, God, I ... I have to know this if for real."

"It is." She panted, pushing her tongue past his lips and her arms wrapped around him. One arm rested gently across his shoulders as her other clutched at his head, her fingers tangling in his hair as she held him close.

He moaned and groaned as she took a few steps back and he grunted as they fell onto the bed. He wanted to die as he felt her bend her knees, her legs clamping his waist to pull him even closer. Within seconds, the couple resituated on the center of the bed and Jeff settled heavily into the tiny woman.

His lips traced a hot path down her neck, his passion evident and intense. His tongue, his mouth, his teeth adored the precious skin of her throat. Trish hummed, a smile pulling at her lips. "Oh God, Jeff. I ..."

He pushed back from her, just lifting up enough to look in her eyes. "Are you sure you want this? You want me? Cuz ..." he licked his kiss swollen lips. "Baby, I couldn't take another tease. I love you. I need you."

Trish licked her lips in response, her eyes searching his face. His soft green eyes to his full moist mouth, those gorgeous lips simply calling to her. She could feel his fit tight body pressed against hers, his broad scruff-covered chest, his powerful arms braced to either side and his incredible hardness pushing into her.

"Baby?"

Her eyes fell half lidded and she smiled shyly at him. "I ain't changing my mind." Her hands ran down his arms, touching him in every way. God, she loved his skin. So roughened and masculine to her touch. "I love you, Jeff. I never stopped."

His smile brightened as his eyes gazed lovingly on this woman. "I'm gonna make love to you." He announced, leaning closer. "Slowly," he placed a hot wet kiss on her mouth. "Sensually," he mumbled then kissed her deeply again. "You're going to know the sweetest." A kiss. "Most tender." Another kiss. "Sensations."

"Jeff," Trish sighed, her eyes fluttering closed. "God, Jeff, never stop."

"Never," he breathed into her parted lips then closed the final distance between them. His kiss hot, passionate and sensual, her response equal. Jeff finally held the woman of his dreams, the only woman in his heart. And he had no intention of ever letting her go again.

FIN

(Read review ... I love reviews.)


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